by Robin Caroll
“When did ya give it to the sheriff?”
“Less than an hour ago.”
Justin sat on the edge of the coffee table, but kept the gun digging into Luc’s chest. “For decades I get away with it, and now…” He glared back at Luc. “You’re just too nosy for your own good, ya know that?”
“I really don’t understand, Uncle Justin.” Just keep him talking, keep him calm.
The laugh his uncle gave was more of a snort, riddled with an evil Luc had never heard before. “I woulda gotten away with it all if it hadn’t been for Beulah, that little conniving, thieving, wh—”
“Who?” Luc could’ve swallowed his tongue for the look Justin gave him.
“The little girl who warmed my bed every Friday night.”
Friday Night Special. Luc’s gut twisted. Dwayne’s sister.
Justin studied him through narrowed eyes. “Ah, I see ya know ’bout her, yes?”
“She’s Dwayne William’s little sister.”
“Well, I’ll be da—”
“You didn’t know?”
“Nope. News to me.” Justin loosened his grip on the rifle just a fraction of an inch and rubbed his head. “No matter, though.” He pushed the gun back digging into Luc’s chest, right over his heart. “She got me to tell her things I’d done in the past. Too much whiskey. Didn’t even think too much about her until Beau came over last week.”
Every nerve tangled in Luc.
Justin nodded. “Yeah, he came by to show me that Confederate coin. Knew it’d come from your little swamp thang’s house, too.
“He’d talked to a coin appraiser who’d filled him in how our local Klan had accumulated quite a bit of them and what they were worth. That’s why he was gonna evict them, to get his hands on those coins. He always was too greedy for his own good. And he told me ’bout a letter someone had written, telling him there was evidence of my Klan activities hidden in that house, too.”
Luc pressed his back as far into the couch as possible. His uncle was a much older man than he, but built like a middle linebacker. Besides, he had a gun. Luc could watch for an opening…an opportunity to get the upper hand. Maybe if he got his uncle on a roll, he’d get a chance. “Which there was.”
“I didn’t know that yet, but I knew ole Marcel might’ve kept some mementos. ’Course, I thought he mighta gotten rid of everything right before he died since he seemed to find Jesus and all that hoopla.”
“You weren’t sure?” Anything to keep him talking.
“It was likely there’d still be somethin’ over at Marcel’s. I’d tried to cozy up to Marie after he died, but she would have none of it.”
“Marie didn’t like you?”
Justin skewered his face into a grimace. “Woman didn’t know what she was missin’—I’ll tell ya that.”
Luc crossed his ankles, providing himself a means of shifting a bit to the edge of the couch. He needed to be ready to make his move.
“Beau…he comes over here all het up because of that letter and what he learned about the coins linked to the Klan. My own brother tells me if he finds any evidence about me being in the Klan, he’d turn me over to the police himself.” He let out a long huff. “Can ya imagine?”
“He didn’t know for sure?”
“Of course not! He had that eviction notice going, and I knew it’d only be a matter of time before he found something Marcel left behind.”
Luc stiffened, every muscle in his body tensing. “What happened?”
“I tried to explain, but noooo, not to my brother, Mr. Upstanding and all. He was bound and determined to prove to everyone he upheld the law. Even if it meant turning in his own flesh and blood.”
Justin shook his head. “I’ve outlived them both—Marcel and Roger, our other true brother of the Klan who’d taken the pictures. Both of ’em dead for years now.”
Justin jumped to his feet suddenly, pushing the gun up to Luc’s neck. “Ya know, we need to go. That sheriff, cooyon that he is, could be on his way here right now.” He jabbed the barrel into Luc’s arm. “Get up.”
Luc stood, sizing up his uncle.
Justin rammed the gun into his side. “Don’t be gettin’ no ideas, boy. I’ll shoot ya dead just like I did your granddaddy.”
Luc’s heart and stomach flip-flopped. “You killed Grandfather? Your own brother?”
Laughing, Justin shoved him toward the back door of the house. “With his own gun, ain’t that a kick in the bucket?”
Once he stood on the ground, Luc asked, “You shot him and set me up?”
“Had to, boy. Don’t ya get it? There’s no statute of limitations on murder. That picture is proof I killed a man, with that note on it.” Justin shoved him forward with the barrel. “Don’t be stupid. If ya give me any problems, I’ll go kill that swamp witch girlfriend of yours as soon as I kill ya.” He let out an evil laugh.
Hot rage swarmed Luc’s logic. He fisted his hands at his sides.
Uncle Justin shoved the gun to Luc’s face, right under his nose. “I said not to try nothin’, ya hear?”
Dear Lord, he’s gonna kill me just like he killed Grandfather. I don’t care about that, God, I really don’t. If You’re ready to call me home, then I’m ready to come. But, God,please keep CoCo and her family safe. I pray You put your hedge of protection around them all.
Tires crunched on the gravel driveway.
Justin jabbed the rifle into Luc’s back. “Keep your mouth shut. I mean it, boy.”
Luc pressed his lips together even as he heard a banging on the front door.
“Justin! Luc! Open up. It’s Sheriff Theriot.”
“Not one word,” Justin hissed in his ear. He shoved Luc toward the edge of the bayou backing up to his land.
He’s gonna put me in the water and shoot me. They may never find my body. An alligator could get me. Luc’s chest constricted. Just like Dad.
CoCo shut off the trolling motor of her airboat. She grabbed the palms lining the edge of the bayou and pulled the boat as close to the mounds of plants as possible. The sharp edges of the stalks dug into her hands, like multiple paper cuts. She didn’t cry out. Her entire being focused on the two men standing no more than fifty feet from where she hid.
Justin had a gun pressed against the small of Luc’s back. She sucked in her bottom lip and caught it between her teeth.
God, please protect Luc. Please, God, save him.
She could hear Bubba yelling from the front porch. When she’d hung up the phone with him, she’d rushed to her airboat, knowing she could get to Justin’s house faster on water. And she’d made it in time. Could she save Luc?
CoCo lifted her binoculars, focusing on Justin’s face. She took in every wrinkle lined with rage, the way his eyes were weighed down with fury, the firm set of his jaw. Lowering the field glasses, she realized Justin Trahan had gone off the deep end. The very deep end.
Justin pushed Luc to his knees at the water’s edge. He pressed the end of the rifle at the base of Luc’s skull.
The sob rose from her chest without warning. She would not watch someone she loved be taken away from her. CoCo jumped from the boat and crept toward the men.
“Justin! Luc!” Bubba’s voice drew nearer.
From the corner of her eye, she caught the sheriff’s movement around the side of the house.
Justin mumbled curses, lifting the butt of the rifle and brought it down on Luc’s head. The cracking sounded just before Luc toppled face-first into the bayou.
Luc’s uncle tossed the gun into the undergrowth beside the water and then turned and jogged up the incline. “Why, Sheriff Theriot, what’re ya doin’ here?” His voice didn’t even hint at the horror of what he’d just done to his great-nephew.
Keeping in a crouched position, CoCo made her way toward Luc. She glanced over to the men at the side of the house before breaking out of her hiding behind the mounds of palms. The sheriff had a stern look on his face, but CoCo couldn’t worry about him. Besides, the sheriff was y
ounger and stronger than Justin, and Luc’s uncle was now unarmed.
She tugged Luc’s shoulders until she pulled him on dry land and held his head in her lap. Water rivulets covered his face, splats fell across her legs. “Luc, wake up,” she whispered and tapped his cheek. “Come on, please wake up.” She shot a look at the sheriff and Justin, still seeming in benign conversation. She gazed at Luc.
His eyes were open, focused on her. “CoCo? What—”
“Shh.” She laid a finger against his lips. “I need to get you back to my boat before the sheriff and Justin get finished talking.”
Luc sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “No. CoCo, Uncle Justin is the one who killed Grandfather. He told me so—”
“I know,” she hissed. “Keep your voice down. The sheriff knows, too. He’s just distracting him because he doesn’t know where you are. Now hush and follow me.” She crouched and made her way to the mound of palms, then motioned him to follow.
Out in the open, he froze. His gaze locked on his great-uncle.
“Luc,” she whispered.
He turned and looked at her.
“Please. Come on.”
He stared back at the men.
“Please, Luc. I love you.”
Luc jerked his stare to hers. He blinked several times.
Then a gunshot shattered the tranquility of the bayou.
TWENTY-FOUR
CoCo screamed. Luc rushed to her, gathering her into his arms. Together, they both turned.
Sheriff Theriot holstered his sidearm, before slapping cuff ties on Justin’s wrists and tightened them. “Luc,” he hollered. Justin laid on the ground moaning in pain from the shot to his foot. “Shouldn’t have charged me, Mr. Trahan.”
“Luc’s okay,” CoCo yelled. Her entire body quivered.
Luc tightened his hold on her and approached the men. “Bubba, he confessed. He killed my grandfather.”
“I know. I figured that out.” He gave a nod toward her. “Because your lady told me what else y’all had discovered.”
Luc tightened his hold around her shoulders. She snuggled against him. “He needs to have his head checked out, Sheriff. I saw Justin hit him with the butt of the rifle.”
“I’m fine.” Luc waved off the sheriff’s offer to take him to the hospital. “At least, now I am,” he said, and leaned to kiss her.
“I’m just glad both of you are safe,” CoCo’s grandmother announced.
A small group sat on the LeBlancs’ veranda. Felicia and her mother would soon arrive, completing the group. Tara sat on the arm of her grandmother’s rocker. CoCo perched against the porch railing, Dwayne sat in the other rocker, and Luc leaned against the wall.
“I still can’t believe Justin killed Beau.” Marie LeBlanc made a clucking noise.
“It’s all unbelievable,” Dwayne said as he rubbed his head.
“God watched over us.” CoCo’s eyes met Luc’s as she spoke.
Pride rose in his chest. He watched everyone’s reactions. Tara dropped her gaze to the floor. Her grandmother stared with sharp eyes. Dwayne smiled, understanding. And something else hit against Luc’s spirit. He glanced over and saw the question in CoCo’s eyes. He gave a slight nod.
CoCo went into the house, then came out within seconds. She held a picture in her hand, which she offered to Dwayne. “Do you recognize the man in the middle?”
The lawyer took the picture and stared. His chest heaved and tears lined his eyes as he looked back to CoCo. “This was my grandfather, Jimmy Jones.”
CoCo wrapped an arm around the big man’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Dwayne. So sorry for my grandfather’s actions. I don’t know what else to say. I’m so ashamed.”
“Me, too,” Luc said as he moved to grip Dwayne’s shoulder. “I can’t say how sorry I am.”
Dwayne looked from Luc to CoCo. “You just did. You solved the mystery of what happened to my grandfather.” He glanced at the picture again. “And my sister,” he mumbled under his breath. “Sheriff said Justin admitted to injecting her with an overdose of drugs.”
“I’m sorry,” CoCo whispered.
“May I have a copy of this?” Dwayne held up the picture. “I’d like to let my mother know. He was a civil rights attorney, did you know that?”
“I know.” CoCo’s voice was soft and even.
“You know what, I don’t want a copy,” Dwayne said. “I’d rather Mom not ever see this.”
CoCo took the picture and shoved it into her shorts pocket. “I understand. I’ll take this to the sheriff this afternoon.”
Luc couldn’t stand it any longer. He took CoCo’s hand. “Can I talk to you a minute?” They’d barely had a second alone before they had to rehash the story over and over again. He excused them, then led her down to the bayou beside her airboat.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uncle Justin told me something before he went ballistic.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Luc smiled. “Told me that I was his sole heir.”
“That impresses you?” She cocked her head.
He bit back the smile. “Not really. But see, if he’s in jail for murder, chances are pretty good that he’ll never get around to evicting you.”
She grinned, sending his heart racing. “Is that a fact?”
“I think I can arrange for that to fall through the cracks.” He stared at her, love burning in his chest. “Back there, did you mean what you said?”
Her face turned a delightful shade of red. “That I love you?”
His heart thundered. “Yes.”
“Yes. Je t’ aime.”
His heart exploded with love and joy. He tugged her to him, planting kisses along her face before settling on her mouth. She murmured against him, then broke away from the kiss.
“I love you, too,” he whispered.
“I know.” She smiled. There she went again, reading his mind. Only this time, she read his heart.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0747-3
BAYOU JUSTICE
Copyright © 2007 by Robin Miller
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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